


sick day

by hiiraeth



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Gabriel needs to chill, Some light angst, and nathalie needs a raise
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-04
Updated: 2020-11-04
Packaged: 2021-03-08 20:40:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,248
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27382828
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hiiraeth/pseuds/hiiraeth
Summary: Gabriel gets sick and Nathalie has to convince him to take it easy.
Relationships: Gabriel Agreste | Papillon | Hawk Moth/Nathalie Sancoeur
Comments: 8
Kudos: 43





	sick day

Nathalie knew something was wrong the moment she walked into the atelier at precisely eight in the morning and Gabriel was not yet at his podium. The lights were off, indicating that nobody had been in the room since last night.

It was odd. When his schedule allowed it, he was always the first one there, normally coming in at least an hour before Nathalie. It had been that way for the entire ten years she spent working for him, so his absence was an anomaly, to say the least.

And when it came to Gabriel, Nathalie had learned that any deviation from the norm, without his informing her, never boded well.

She lingered in the entrance, debating on whether she should go upstairs and check on him. Ultimately she decided against it. Perhaps he'd just decided to sleep in. It would be out of character for him, but Nathalie _had_ been giving him little hints to relax more lately. Maybe he was finally taking her advice. And if that were the case, she didn't want to bother him.

One hour, she decided. If he didn't come down in an hour, she would seek him out.

* * *

At eight fifty-two, Nathalie was preparing herself to find out what the deal was with Gabriel's lateness when the atelier doors opened and he walked in. Nathalie looked up from her computer, a greeting just at the tip of her tongue. As she looked at him, though, the pleasantries died in her throat.

He did not look well.

His usual outfit was incomplete. He wore only the red pants and white dress shirt, clearly having decided to forgo the vest and jacket. His feet dragged as he made his way to the podium and as he situated himself in front of his computer, Nathalie was startled to find that his skin, usually a golden tan, was now as pale as hers.

A thin film of sweat lined his forehead. Dark circles were forming under his eyes. He turned his head to cough into his arm, trying to make it sound less severe than it was but failing.

Gabriel was sick.

Nathalie wondered how that could happen, given that he rarely left the house. His chances of contracting viruses were significantly lower than the rest of the population who ventured out of their homes on the regular, mingling closely with others. Nathalie briefly worried that she might have passed something on to him since she often _did_ leave the house, but that couldn't be right. Aside from the occasional miraculous related fit, Nathalie had not experienced any symptoms that could be blamed on a specific illness. She considered the possibility that perhaps she was simply asymptomatic.

And then she remembered— Adrien had similar symptoms only a week before, although his had been much less noticeable because they lacked in severity. He'd had a light cough, some congestion, and only a slight fever. His condition was so mild that Gabriel hadn't even felt the need to call the doctor. They had both assumed he simply had a cold. Within a few days, he'd made a miraculous recovery and was back to normal.

He must have given it to his father, who, unfortunately for him, looks to have gotten the worst of it.

"Good morning, sir," Nathalie finally spoke. "Is everything alright?"

"I'm fine," He said tersely. Another cough.

"Are you sure—"

"Have you received the reports for the third quarter yet?" He asked suddenly.

"...Yes. I'll send them to you right away."

"Good."

Nathalie sighed and started on her task. It was clear he didn't want to discuss how not well he was. And although it bothered her, she understood why. She was the same way, to an extent, although for an entirely different set of reasons.

But for Gabriel, he was not the type of person to let anything slow him down. As long as he was capable of walking he would continue pushing forward regardless of his health. He would not admit to weakness.

It was a trait she admired about him usually but found that it bothered her more than anything right then.

For the next hour, they worked mostly in silence, save for the occasional inquiries, and Gabriel's coughing. The latter concerned her enough that eventually she left the room without saying anything and brought back some liquid cough medicine, which, to her relief, Gabriel took without putting up a fight.

His coughing subsided somewhat after that, but he didn't look much better. Nathalie was almost certain he was getting worse. When she discreetly peaked up at him over her computer he seemed weary. His hand hovered over his computer screen for a long time and he stared at it with unfocused eyes, swaying slightly on his feet.

He definitely should not have gotten out of bed. Nathalie was just about to ask if be was alright again when Gabriel suddenly jerked to attention. His eyes regained some light as he touched the brooch pinned to his shirt, a wicked grin spreading across his face.

"I sense something," he said, and turned towards Emilie's portrait.

Oh no—

Nathalie was on her feet and in front of Gabriel faster than he could make it down the steps of his podium.

"Sir, please forgive me, but I don't think that's a good idea right now. You're sick."

"Don't be ridiculous, I'm fine." He attempted to move past her but she quickly got in his way again. He frowned at her. "Nathalie, move."

"Please reconsider."

He bristled. "There's nothing to consider! I can't miss this chance. Any chance. This could be it, Nathalie. How can I pass up this opportunity knowing it might be the one that brings Emilie back to us!"

"I understand that, sir. But think of the potential consequences of transforming in your current state. You're way more likely to make mistakes like this."

"That's not going to happen," he huffed.

Nathalie stood her ground. She looked at Gabriel with a firm yet sympathetic gaze, willing him to change his mind. His eyes hardened as he realized she wasn't going to back down. He took a step forward, now close enough that Nathalie had to tilt her head up to look him in the eyes.

"I don't think you understand, Nathalie," he said. "This is not up for debate. I'm not asking for permission. Move aside, or I will move you myself."

Nathalie raised a single brow, unimpressed by his attempt at intimidation. Unfortunately for him, she had not been terrified of her boss for quite a while now. She was almost positive he would not actually manhandle her out of the way, but if he did, then that was fine. She would simply pin him down in retaliation and wait for the negative emotion he sensed to pass. There was no way he'd be able to wrestle her in his current condition.

He'd be angry at her, but so be it.

Gabriel's first priority might be Emilie, but unfortunately for both of them, Nathalie's was Gabriel. And as much as she wanted him to be happy, to be whole again, she wasn't willing to let him sacrifice his health in the process.

Nathalie squared her shoulders and waited for him to make a move. His eyes flashed with indignation.

Before he could do anything, though, he was plagued with a sudden bout of harsh coughing. His legs gave out and he fell to his knees; Nathalie went with him, grabbing the upper part of his arms. She rubbed them soothingly while he hacked, like he had done for her so many times in the past. As the fit died down, he pushed her away, her insubordination not forgotten.

It didn't phase her.

Nathalie took Gabriel's face in her hands and forced him to look at her.

"Gabriel, listen to me. You're not doing Emilie any favors by forcing yourself to fight right now. Even if you're not concerned about making any mistakes, what about you? Your health? Kwamis draw on the energy of their holders. And you don't look like you have much energy left to give."

Gabriel squeezed his eyes shut. "I don't care. I—"

"You should," She interrupted him. " _You should_. What if you transform and get sicker because of it? What if the illness is too much for your body to fight off? What if your condition becomes so severe you need to be hospitalized? You'll fall behind in everything. Work. Hawkmoth. All of it will be delayed. You'll put further stress on yourself in the long run. And Emilie will have to wait longer because of it."

Gabriel shook his head despondently. "Nathalie," he croaked. "I have to—"

"No, you don't," she told him gently. She stroked his cheek with her thumb. "You know I'm right. Look— your face is warm. You have a fever."

She pulled him toward her and wrapped her arms around his shoulders. This time he didn't push her away. His head fell into the crook of her neck and he hugged her back.

"It's okay, Gabriel. Rest."

This time, he didn't argue with her.

* * *

After she helped him off the floor, Gabriel shut down his computer and went upstairs to his room. Before he left, he paused in the doorway and instructed Nathalie to bring him a tablet. There was still regular work that needed to be done, sick or not. He'd just have to do it from his bed.

She nodded obediently and he left.

Nathalie decided to wait a few minutes for him to settle down before she brought it to him. In the meantime, she sifted through the medicine cabinet, looking for the right remedies. She eventually settled on the liquid cough syrup she'd given him earlier, as well as some aspirin and a decongestant she was sure he would need later.

She would call the doctor in and get him a proper prescription. But these would do for now.

When Nathalie finally made her way upstairs she stopped in front of Gabriel's door and knocked. "Sir?" She called. "I have your tablet."

She waited for a reply. Nothing.

Concern wrapped itself around her heart. She didn't want to barge into his personal space without his permission, but what if something had happened to him? He had barely been able to stay on his feet earlier. He could have passed out and hit his head.

She decided to risk his offense and opened the door—which was, thankfully, unlocked.

The room was mostly dark— the black-out curtains on the windows were drawn shut, preventing the morning light from shining through, although a sliver of it managed to get in through the thin space between curtains. She blinked a few times, trying to adjust her already poor vision to the darkness. She glanced around the room and was relieved to see a human-shaped lump in the bed. She walked over slowly, worried she might trip on something she couldn't see. But she needn't worry. Gabriel's room, from what she could make out in the dark, was as tidy as ever.

Nathalie set his tablet, as well as the medicine, on the nightstand on his side of the bed.

"Gabriel?" She whispered, but just like before, she received no answer.

She placed a hand on his chest. It rose and fell slowly, his breathing even. He was asleep.

Good.

She should have left, then. But Nathalie found herself reluctant to leave his side. She sat on the edge of the bed and found herself threading her fingers through his hair in what she hoped was a soothing manner. She was surprised at how soft it was, given how much product he tended to put in it.

Gabriel sighed and tilted his head into her hand. Nathalie froze.

"Nathalie?"

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to wake you." She started to pull away but he caught her hand.

"No, don't stop. Please."

Nathalie did as he asked.

He didn't say anything else and after a long stretch of silence, Nathalie wondered if he had fallen asleep again. But after some time, he spoke again.

"Nathalie?"

"Yes, sir?"

"I'm sorry. For being so harsh with you earlier."

Nathalie smiled. She brushed the back of her hand against his cheek. "It's alright, sir."

"You do so much for us. For me," He continued as if he hadn't heard her. "I'm so lucky to have you in my life. I don't know what I'd do without you. I—" He coughed. "I'm glad you're here."

Nathalie swallowed a rush of emotion and looked away. "Thank you. I appreciate that."

He hummed in acknowledgment. And then started to confess something, his tone serious.

"I...I sometimes wonder... if..."

She leaned down closer to him, curious as to what he was trying to say. He must have been delirious. Gabriel never had trouble speaking and he certainly never offered up this much of his feelings at once. It was a rare opportunity to truly understand what he was feeling.

"You wonder what?" She asked.

Her only answer was a snore.

Nathalie sighed and smiled gently at him, brushing a loose strand of hair away from his eyes.

She doubted he would be as willing to speak about whatever it was when he was well and of sound mind again, but maybe...maybe one day he'd tell her about it.

Nathalie leaned down to give him a light kiss on the forehead and then stood.

Back to work.

**Author's Note:**

> thomas astruc make gabenath canon or else


End file.
